I realized it was Christmas and I hadn’t even remembered. The shops were closed tight, and I would be damned if I would interrupt a Christmas Eve di...ner just because I had lost my way. But still it was so cold, so terribly cold. I remembered my friend Chelsea, the sassy psychology student. She had been a Masters student in my Multivariate calculus class the first semester I ever taught it. Unlike the other students who rolled their eyes at me, she found my utter inability to communicate. Whether triggered by smell or a song or whatever, she loved to remember her crushes with as much melodrama and high-production special effects as possible. In her memories, Lucas, the really sweet barista at Republic Coffee ate her pussy on a giant pile of exotic coffee beans, dark and rich and pungent with a thousand jungles and her pussy juices. Instead, the reality was her ass balanced precariously between the 3-group La Mazocca and the scones. She barely managed to stay perched on the edge. More

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